Maybe I don’t need a makeover after all…I just need to watch more TV.

Look! It's Stacy and Clinton. They wouldn't want me on their show. I'm not quite pitiful enough. Or at least that is what I am telling myself.

Look! It’s Stacy and Clinton. They wouldn’t want me on their show. I’m not quite pitiful enough. Or at least that is what I am telling myself.

“I can’t believe this show is no longer on the air and the whole time it was on, YOU never nominated ME for a makeover!” I called to my husband while watching an episode of What Not to Wear. It was late. Children were asleep. My mother-in-law was in bed. I was folding clothes and in need of mindless TV. After flipping through a gazillion useless channels, I found What Not To Wear On-Demand. I had not seen it in years, but I was fairly addicted to make-over shows when I was pregnant with my daughter six years ago.

“I love you too much to do that,” he answered.

He loves me too much to want me to go to NYC for a weekend to shop for clothes for myself with someone else’s money? Yeah, right. If that’s the case, I wish he would love me a little less because I could use a make-over.

Of course, if he—or anyone else—sent them a picture of me, I don’t think the producers of What Not To Wear or Ten Years Younger or How Do I Look? or any other make-over show would be interested. I have never worn a Halloween costume to a wedding, and I’m not one of those otherwise healthy-looking people you see walking around the mall in their pajamas and bedroom slippers. I wear a bra—on the inside of my shirt, and never on the outside. So, you see, I’m NOT completely hopeless or that intriguing when it comes to fashion or hair or make-up. I’m probably very average—on all accounts.

Besides, back when I watched make-over shows, I never really could relate to the chick wearing the fish-net stocking and see-through blouse to the PTA meeting or the one who thought wearing a raccoon tail pinned to her pants looked good. They were all about calling attention to themselves while hiding behind a ridiculous façade. I don’t do that.

I could and can relate, however, to the woman who is too busy to shop for herself and so everything in her closet is at least a decade old. I know what it is like to gain a little weight and not be certain how to dress a body that is shaped a little differently. No time for make-up? Yep. Can’t find a good stylist and so you gave up looking? Been there, done that. Want to look age appropriate without looking frumpy, but can’t always strike the right balance? Me, too. Not a lot of money to spend on your clothes, much less buying items that will need altering to fit just right? Oh, yes!

In other words, I relate to those women who have let themselves go.

As I write this, I am wearing jeans I bought at Sam’s Wholesale Club. Why? Because I buy all my clothes at wholesale clubs. Why? Because they don’t sell clothes at the grocery store, and lately, wholesale clubs and grocery stores are the only places I shop.

It’s been over a year since I last had a professional manicure or pedicure because I have a hard time justifying the time and the money. (And yeah, I know just mentioning this makes me the Queen of First World Whining. It’s not a real problem unless you are living a somewhat charmed life. I know this. You don’t need to remind me.)

My shoe wardrobe will never, ever, ever recover from my pregnancies. I went from a size 5 ½ to an 8.

And as I have previously written, I’m not sure what I am doing with my hair.

Yeah, I am that woman who has let herself go—but not completely.  Again, I don’t even own a sweatsuit, and I admit—I do still brush my hair and my teeth.

The morning after watching Stacy and Clinton help some poor woman, who needed more help than I do, I slid on a pair of my wholesale club jeans and examined my butt in the mirror. No panty-lines and no sagging. And isn’t that one of their rules—jeans should make your butt look good? Mine looks good enough in these. At least as good as it would look in any other pair of jeans, even a pair purchased at—dare I dream—a clothing store!

I also wore a different pair of earrings instead of my standard, goes-with-everything pearls. I filed my nails. I wore make-up. I made an effort.

Maybe I don’t need to be on a makeover show. Maybe I just need to watch one while folding my laundry.

 

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